


To the skulls resurrected, blades honed, and gods electrified

by Ankaa



Series: Rope bridges at the edge of the world [1]
Category: Future Card Buddyfight
Genre: Gen, but with this canon?, not exactly canon compliant, you know how it is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21759868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ankaa/pseuds/Ankaa
Summary: From inkstone to whetstone, you grind your thoughts, fears, enemies - to dust.You have stories to share, and a world to seeWith the freedom, comes the not-unending dusk
Relationships: Magatsu Jin & Yamigitsune
Series: Rope bridges at the edge of the world [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1568272
Kudos: 3





	To the skulls resurrected, blades honed, and gods electrified

Belonging somewhere, and wanting to be there, are two different things.  
There are outcasts, wanderers, explorers, escapists, those that can't stay where they were created. Are you one of them? Maybe.  
Rumors drift in young dusk. Of a new, open world. You pay them no mind.  
And yet, more souls seem to move there, and stay. Less familiar masks around. The sword fields seem emptier. Even at night, when most of your kind rise from their resting spaces, it still feels this way.  
There is a lot of young souls being brought into existence. Your own birthworld, doesn't seem like it's used to.

It isn't as hard as you thought it would be. New world is a neutral ground, for now, and souls from other worlds are already pouring in. The promise of growth, of evolution, of freedom, spreads in whispers and bursts of power. 

Creatures of the same world still flock together, mostly. You don't think too much about it when you settle on a small island, where you sense your fellow souls. 

On a moonless night, they tell you three rules of this world. Between sweet taste of sake, and all your attention on pieces of dice rolling across the table, you can't take it seriously, and don't remember it when the sun sets again.

All of you - unwanted, unneeded, free souls, explorers and wanderers... Even not getting involved, you still affect the world, day by day.  
You weren't the first, you weren't the last. You can't make rules, but here, your life is your own. Be careful who you show yourself to, who you bond to. Native creatures - humans, are like a sparks of light, they shine, they live and then they disappear.  
They say there is a perfect human for every one of you, outsiders, and you scoff. Isn't it cruel? To achieve harmony, only for it to be blown out is a measly century. 

"This world won't let you be alone for long, no matter what you do."

You find familiar masks, when wanderlust gets the better of you. You are, always were, a fox, you can't stay for too long in one place. Some things don't change, some do. You've seen what finding and losing what you didn't know you needed, does. When companions expire, and even if they become more like your kind, their souls won't stay. You don't want this. Even if you've never heard before, some of your most ferocious acquaintances have that gentle lilt when they talk about one they've chosen. All of them, every single one of them, is going to lose in the end.

Among black skies and glowing orange lantern lights, you hear stories. It's hard to tell if they're from your birthworld, or if they are from here. Stories of reincarnations, of souls coming back, of reunions. This world will change, and change us all.

But is it worth the pain of losing? Even the most broken of you, believe it does.

When human souls come back, they do not remember. They are afraid of your kind, afraid of the darkness, afraid of what their mind shows them. Of fear and lifeblood, your kind is born, but you don't feel joy anymore.  
And yet, you stay. 

"If you won't choose, you would be chosen"

It's a promise and a threat, and you hide yourself in a tiny shrine, away from anyone. You don't want to choose, don't want to be chosen.  
You last about half a century.  
You start going outside, not too far, when it's not too bright. There is nothing to do and yet, you make your rounds. People are afraid of you, and even if it's how things should be, maybe, it still feels lonely. 

You shift into a smaller body, despite having no one to not scare around. The world seems bigger this way, your self-made prison cell not as suffocating. It is even more lonely still. But that's alright.

If someone can open the box you built and hid yourself in, they would.

And they do, with a bright smile, and trust, and loneliness creeping from inside of their chest. In his voice, in that childish urgency, there is "Please, don't leave me alone", and it resonates with your own. 

"You will know when you meet them"

His name is Jin, he says, and asks for yours.  
You are a fox born of darkness, you tell him. Jin laughs joyfully, as if your very presence makes him happy. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"This world won't let you be alone for long, no matter what you do. If you won't choose, you would be chosen. You will know when you meet them."

Now you remember.

Jin is but a child, as small as your current form is, his hand in yours is warm and soft, as the living beings are. He pulls you into the light, and you let him. Neither of you is alone anymore. 

But it's unfair, so unfair,  
for a fox to lose, knowing all the rules. 

You know, you gamble with your own heart at stake  
And will keep playing, knowing how it always ends.


End file.
